


The Air Tastes Like Ash

by Cbyrno521



Series: And Then, Silence. [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything Tony wanted and more, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, I wrote this instead of my main story, Infinity Gauntlet, Marvel Universe, Other, Peter Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Sad Peter Parker, Superfamily, The big one., Time Skips, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony dies, Yknow. That... snap, because I can't handle his death lmao, but comes back, endgame spoilers, mega angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 03:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cbyrno521/pseuds/Cbyrno521
Summary: Mr. Stark hugged him.There was no door behind them, no excuses. It was a genuine hug.“Oh.”Mr. Stark still had yet to say anything and Peter tried his best to ignore the small wet spot on his shoulder where he knew the other man's eyes were. “This is nice,” was all he said, holding the Iron Man suit and breathing in the small euphoria that washed over him in the midst of battle.But now?Now the air tasted like ash, and Tony was laying there dying.





	The Air Tastes Like Ash

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of my main story.
> 
> That being said, check her out here!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17520941
> 
>  
> 
> Also big thanks to my beta Cass for helping with this! <3

“I’m sorry..”

 

Peter inhaled, and turned to dust.

 

When he exhaled, he was back. But things were different. Tony was gone, and everyone who he watched disappear was suddenly there, staring at him like he was some anomaly. Strange was there aswell, looking as if he couldn’t believe it.

 

Peter couldn’t blame him.

 

“Come on,” Strange told the group, swallowing harshly. “They need us.”

 

Before Peter could ask exactly  _ who  _ needed them, the wizard swirled his hands in a circle, bright flicks of light breaking the space time continuum to reveal… A battle? 

 

Everyone stepped through the portal, the mood shifting from confused to determined. That’s what the battlefield does to people, though, isn’t it? 

 

Peter was the last one to go through, immediately spidey sense lighting up the back of his neck and sending him on high alert. Chitauri flew throughout the sky like slow moving comets, waiting to find the area that they would strike. 

 

More portals opened around him, groups of people and creatures all stepping out proudly. People Peter has only heard about in passing, others he had the opportunity and privilege to fight side by side with. 

 

He assumed that most of that was about to change.

 

With sudden realization, Peter shot his head towards the crowd in front of them. Searching, seeking, those brown eyes. The ones that he looked into when he first went away, the ones that held his gaze as he was ripped apart molecule by molecule. 

 

Instead, he was met with purple skin. 

 

Everything made sense once more to the teen, seeing the leader of the other army. _Thanos_ _is here, Thanos is here, Thanos is-_

 

_ Thanos is going down. _

 

Black Panther started his war cry, and his soldiers followed. Peter crouched down and felt his mask cover his face, ready to strike. The energy shifted through their side of the battle, determination and pride, mixed with the bitter sweet sacrificial feeling flowing through the veins of every member. Everyone who was about to willingly fight extraterrestrial creatures for the sake of The Fallen. For the sake of their home. For Earth.

 

“Avengers..” A strong voice called, which Peter automatically connected with Captain America. Before he could even be shocked by that fact, he saw the man hold out his arm and receive Thor’s magical hammer.  _ Holy shit,  _ was the only reasonable thought that broke through his battle planning mind.

 

“Assemble.”

 

And the battle went on.

 

___

  
  


Peter had died once, and it was peaceful.

 

When his cells were being ripped apart and his healing factor tried delaying the process, maybe it hurt. But Mr. Stark was there holding him, steadying him. He was there for Peter as he faded away and shut his eyes, giving into the inevitable. 

 

But seeing Mr. Stark now, laying down and half charred by the stones?

 

Peter knew. 

 

Mr. Stark was dying, and it was anything but peaceful.

 

He had only seen the man once in battle, and he didn’t even get to catch up completely. Just recalled the bit where he woke up and Strange brought them here. 

 

He ignored the look in Mr. Stark’s eyes at the sight of him, because Peter just assumed it was for the same reason that Peter had in the beginning. He was searching for him, and he finally found him. It was like he was seeing the universe for the first time, and it perfectly conveyed the amount of love he felt for him.

 

Then, Mr. Stark hugged him.

 

There was no door behind them, no excuses. It was a genuine hug. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Mr. Stark still had yet to say anything and Peter tried his best to ignore the small wet spot on his shoulder where he knew the other man's eyes were. “This is nice,” was all he said, holding the Iron Man suit and breathing in the small euphoria that washed over him in the midst of battle.

 

But now?

 

Now the air tasted like ash, and Tony was laying there dying. 

 

“We did it, we won!” Peter numbly watched as his hands gripped onto Mr. Stark, not being able to rip his eyes away from his soulless ones.  _ Maybe if I feel a heartbeat, he’ll be okay,  _ Peter numbly thought as his hands ran over Mr. Stark's chest. “We won,  _ you  _ won.”

 

His heartbeat was faint, and it broke everything in Peter. Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be happening. Peter just came back, and everyone looks aged so he knows there’s been a significant time gap and he needs to know what happened. 

 

Mr. Stark hasn’t blinked, but he’s been wheezing. 

 

Gentle hands grabbed Peter’s shoulders, and he felt tears pool from his eyes and fall down his face. “I’m sorry, Tony,” was all he could say.

 

(He would later hate himself for those being his last words to him. He knew it.)

 

And then Pepper was there, comforting him. Touching his face, telling him it’ll be alright. “Pep..” was all Tony had said, vacant eyes landing on the love of his life. 

 

FRIDAY said he was in critical condition, and it only drilled in the one fact that everyone knew and feared. 

 

They were all making it out of this battle, but Tony wasn’t.

 

“We’ll be okay,” she told him. Her hands fiddled around his eyes, his nose, his beard. Never landing, just gently circling. As if she wasn’t sure what to focus on.

 

“You can rest now.”

 

And finally, Tony did.

 

His arc reactor turned off, and his hands fell from where he gripped hers. The small light in his eyes dimmed out, and turned downwards.

 

Tony was gone, and with him, the group of superheroes who surrounded him mourned.

 

___

 

Peter was the first to break. 

 

Everyone went through the motions of post battle, checking the wounded and looking for the fallen. Some had already left through portals leading to wherever they needed to. 

 

Pepper stayed with Tony, or what was left of him.

 

And Peter respected that. Truly, he did. That was her husband (he really missed their wedding? How much time had passed?) after all. But… He wanted to see Tony too. Wanted to be with him for just a few moments, even if he would be sitting with a shell of the man he wanted to see.

 

And then he watched as Strange walked up to Pepper. He lightly pushed her away, and said a few words. Peter watched as she nodded her head solemnly, and how Strange waved his hands in the air. The same way he did when they were on the alien planet.

 

A portal opened, and Tony’s body was gone.

 

Peter screamed.

 

Heroes all turned their heads, stopping their motions. But Peter didn’t care. He was breaking, falling away, and he was alone and Tony was gone and-

 

His knees buckled as he fell, arms wrapping around his torso as he cried.

 

Suddenly there were feet in front of him, around him, surrounding him. Yet nobody touched the teenager. Distantly he knew he was still screaming, but this time his incoherent sentences were finally being strung together. “No, no no, Tony, no! No, come back!”

 

There were arms wrapping around his head and side, pulling him into their chest. The warmth of a body felt good against Peter’s too cold skin, but he didn’t care. The girl who was holding him started carding her hands through his hair, whispering quietly. 

  
  


“It’s okay, you’re okay..” 

 

He knew that voice, but only from passing. The girl who destroyed the spaceship, who he handed the gauntlet to. Captain Marvel.

 

But he didn’t have the heart to tell her that no, it wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay. He’ll never be okay again because Tony is dead and Peter never got to tell him thank you, and their last encounter was so  _ wrong  _ in every sense of the word.

 

Peter broke, and started the chain reaction. 

 

Slowly, it finally hit all of the heroes. The adrenaline was fading, and with that the small amount of peace they didn’t realize they had until it was gone. 

 

Tony, Merchant of Death turned Protector of Life, was gone.

 

One by one, people got on the ground with Peter. First Rhodey, then Steve, then Valkyrie and Thor and Rocket. 

 

And they all mourned. Together.

 

___

  
  


Months had passed since that battle.

 

People were still catching up on the years they had missed. Parties were thrown almost every night, groups of friends out at Central Park stargazing. There was hardly any crime still, with everyone too preoccupied with everything.

 

Pepper had stepped up and took Tony’s place as owner of Stark Industries, with Morgan at her side. The little girl was a public favorite of course, everyone loving the small connection of Tony that they could get. 

 

And Peter?

 

Peter wasn’t okay.

 

At night his dreams were plagued with the cold, ashen skin of Tony in his last moments, his wheezing amplified to echo throughout. The infinity stones shone like a beacon in the corner of his eye, a deadly reminder of their power and what they did. What they can do.

 

He never wakes up screaming. Just a sudden jolt, as if someone shocked him. And then Peter turns to his side, brings his legs closer to his chest, and lays there for the rest of the night. 

 

May doesn’t know of his struggle.

 

Ned doesn’t know.

 

Of course, Pepper doesn’t know. 

 

Nobody does. 

 

Because Peter still goes out as Spiderman, still keeps up with his grades, and keeps all semblance of normalcy. He meets with Pepper at least once a month (he can’t do more. It hurts too much) to discuss anything but the one man they have in common.

 

(Peter used to see Pepper more. Talking to her was comfort, and seeing her made him feel better because he knew she was safe. But with her came Morgan, and she was possibly the biggest reminder of Tony.)

 

(One day, she called him Uncle Peter. Ever since then, he’s been scarce.)

 

So, everything went on as normal. The tower- renamed Stark Tower in remembrance- became  the superhero hub, where they’d all come together whenever. Check up on eachother, tell battle stories. 

 

Peter rarely went. He always said that he was too busy with his schedule and couldn't fit in downtime, and nobody pestered him on it. In reality, however, he just couldn’t see everyone else. Not after fighting with them, mourning with them. 

 

Strangely enough, he found himself almost always paired up with one of the women Avengers. Always a coincidence that they happened to run into him. Always a shock they had nothing else to do, so might as well help. He never complained; the more the merrier while he patrolled.

 

The only person who’s been just as absent as he has was Strange. The man hardly left his sanctum, and when someone went to check on him, it was always Wong who answered.

 

“Strange is the Sorcerer Supreme. He doesn’t have time for casual meet ups between a few colleagues. I’ll take a message, however, if you deem it life threatening.”

 

It felt strange to Peter. Like the man was hiding something.

 

But after seeing all of those possibilities, all fourteen billion, and seeing Tony being self sacrificial in just about all of them? To watch the man die for the universe, leave behind everything he loved, just to end Thanos? 

 

It would be understandable if he was grieving, too.

 

So the months passed by. The heroes of the world became closer in the absence of their Godfather. Morgan continued to grow, and continuously represented her father in all of the best ways. Everything was going back to normal, or the definition of normal before The Decimation.

 

And Peter?

 

Peter continued to disintegrate slowly, lungs filling with ashes that suffocate him. 

 

And all he wanted to do, was hug Tony one more time and tell him all the things he never got to.

 

___

 

Three years.

 

It had been three years without Tony.

 

Peter was now nineteen and freshly out of high school. He graduated top of his class with all of his classes A+. His speech was sad and heartfelt, and brought his family to tears. 

 

Family being May, Happy, and about fourteen other Avengers.

 

In a few months, Peter would be attending MIT on a full ride. There was already talk about him being like Stark in genius levels, and the college was more than happy to let him know how excited they were to be teaching him.  

 

Everyone was happy, and some days, Peter fell into that category. 

 

But most of the days flew by in a blur to him. Wake up from a nightmare, patrol as Spiderman, make up excuses as to why he can’t see anyone, patrol some more, and then finally go home for about three or four hours of sleep only to do the same thing over again.

 

But today? Today was different.

 

Peter needed to get away. He needed to stop being Peter Parker for a few hours, he needed to be a nobody. Someone who wouldn’t get looked at as much as Spiderman would. Just another face on the streets, another story that went unread.

 

So that’s exactly what he did.

 

Peter went on a walk, putting his earphones on and blaring his music louder than acceptable for his sensitive hearing. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, fingers gently carding his web shooters attached to his wrists. 

 

His hood was up and his head was down. He didn’t look at how many people were around him, they all moved out of his way when he walked. New York was like that. It didn’t matter if you were royalty or twenty seconds away from death. You move out of the way if someone is walking.

 

Which is why it came as such a surprise when Peter looked up and saw nobody there. He was on the street alone. A quick glance at his phone told him that it wasn’t incredibly late yet and his spidey sense told him that there wasn’t any danger around. So he just shrugged to himself and continued to walk.

 

He wasn’t ready to think. He wasn’t ready to be. 

 

So instead, he walked to the beat of his music. 

 

But as his song tampered down and got ready to switch to the next, a voice rang out. A voice that he hadn’t heard in years. One that he was sure he’d never hear again.

 

“Kid?”

 

Peter took out his earphones and stopped walking. 

 

He looked up.

 

And then promptly turned around and walked away.

 

Because there was no way. Absolutely no fucking way. Peter had to have been hallucinating, taken some type of LSD. Inhaled something he wasn’t supposed to and was finally seeing the effects.

 

Tony was dead. There’s no explanation as to why he was standing in front of Peter, looking about as lost as he felt. How the right side of his body wasn’t charred, didn’t even have a scratch. Or even how his arc reactor shone brightly against his black clothing.

 

So it absolutely baffled him when there was a hand on his arm, gripping at his hoodie sleeve and jerking him around. Back to where he just was, staring into the eyes of his dead mentor.

 

“I must be sleep deprived,” Peter murmured in a breathless chuckle as his eyes flicked everywhere on Tony. “Are you a bad guy?” He asked louder, unsure of himself. “Like, a  _ bad  _ guy? Should I fight you? Because I don’t wa-”

 

Peter was pulled into ‘Tony’s’ chest, arms trapping him in a hug. He instantly stiffened, realizing that this couldn’t be a hallucination. “I’m here, I’m really here Pete.” 

 

His eyes widened as Tony put his cheek in his curly hair, breathing him in. But all Peter could do was stand there with his arms at his sides, hands shaking. 

 

“Tell me you’re real.” He whispered. The only indication that Tony heard him was the shifting of his face, turning slightly towards Peter. “Tell me you’re not a trick. Or a dream. Or.. Or whatever. Tell me, please..”

 

Because even if he smelt the same. Held him the same way he did on that battlefield years ago. Had the saem voice, eyes, everything. 

 

Tony was dead, and he wasn’t supposed to be back.

  
  
  


“Your name is Peter Parker, and I’m Tony Stark,” he started, talking into Peter’s curls. “I met you in your tiny apartment in Queens with your unusually attractive aunt. She had horrible cooking skills, yeesh.” They both chuckled, albeit quietly.

 

“You are Spiderman. And the week I took your suit was the week you crashed my plane fighting the Vulture instead of going to Homecoming. He also did some…, not cool things, to put in simple terms.”

 

“And finally, since none of that really proves that I’m really me…” He sighed before pulling Peter away, looking into his eyes. “You fought Thanos twice, and died once. The first time, I held you as you faded away. And I lived with that guilt for five years. Five years of agonizing over you, eventually giving up because I couldn’t find a possibility of bringing you back. Bringing everyone back.”

 

He pursed his lips, gaze floating downwards. “And then I did. And you came back, along with everyone else, and we fought that fucker and by all odds, we  _ won.  _ But then, I… I died. Which is stupid for me to say considering that I’m standing here in the flesh, but it’s what happened. And I finally got to hear you say my name, even if it was the last thing you said to me up until a few moments ago.”

 

When Tony looked up again, there were tears in his eyes. Pain, happiness, joy and defeat all clouded his eyes, battling it out. The man was the embodiment of a contradiction. 

 

But he was here.

 

He was really, truly here.

 

Tony was back.

 

And all Peter could muster up was one singular word. “How?”

 

Relief seemed to win as Tony visibly relaxed, positive that he won Peter over. “Strange. He used the time stone to reverse death, brought me back to a few moments before I used the Infinity Stones. He kept me at the sanctum, too. I was real weak, could hardly stand up or walk. By the time that I was able to function properly, it had been too late. Everyone moved on.”

 

“Everyone but me.”

 

They met eyes once more, and Peter gripped his web shooters hard enough to break. “Why didn’t you come back sooner? And don’t you dare give me that bullshit about this being the soonest, because it’s been years! Literal years!”

After all those nights. The nights of crying, staying up, and begging for reality to twist. Turn into something else, one where Tony was back. The countless meals that were skipped because  _ Tony can’t eat, so why should I?  _

 

The memory of his charred face, his wheezes. ‘You can rest now,’ and the ever insomniac did. He didn’t even close his eyes. He just… went.

 

Peter had entertained the thought of Tony coming back. He fantasized about it, him sitting in school only to hear the tell-tale sounds of repulsors coming and barreling in, disrupting everything in class. 

 

He went through so many emotions in those dreams. Happiness, relief.

 

But never anger.

 

Not like this.

 

His hands were shaking and he’s sure that if his web shooters weren’t modified to accommodate his strength, they would’ve cracked into dozens of tiny pieces. His eyes were narrowed, and his shoulders were still pulled up. Defensive. Ready to flee. 

 

Tony knew this. He could see the angry grief, feel it radiate off of the young adult. “Pete, kid. I know it looks bad, trust me. I’ve run through this scenario countless amounts of times. And never did it end good. But you have to listen to me, alright? Listen to what I have to say. Hear me out.”

 

Maybe it was because this was Tony. Tony goddamn Stark. The man who defied death, who had practically spit in its face. Who had a wife and daughter not even an hour away, an entire legacy left behind. Maybe it was because Peter just wanted a few more minutes with the man. To have that opportunity that was ripped away from him that day years ago on the battlefield.

 

So Peter pursed his lips and nodded hesitantly, a cue to go on.

 

So Tony did, wringing his hands together before ultimately deciding to cross his arms. “If you don’t think I fought tooth and nail with that Sorcerer for as long as I possibly could, you’re wrong. I made his life a living hell for keeping me there. I wanted to see Pep and tell her I’m okay, see Morgan and tell her I love her three thousand and hand her a juice pop, help you throughout high school and in college. There was so much I wanted to do, but I never could. Because that day? That day I died.”

 

“And take what your reaction was to seeing me, and quadruple it. For my family, for my friends, for the entire goddamn world. Me being alive? As much as it sucks to say, it shouldn’t be told. To anyone. Because then there’d be people demanding that Strange bring loved ones back, or cure them when they fall sick, or some other wizardly mumbo jumbo.”

 

“And today, somehow of all days, Strange told me to go out. Walk to this specific place at this specific time and wait. And I thought he was absolutely ludicrous. Keep me in and then tell me to leave?” He scoffed. “I knew something was up. But I was so antsy to leave that I just did it. Didn’t think about anything else. So for some reason, some magical bullshit reason that I have yet to decipher, I was supposed to see you here. We were supposed to meet again, have this conversation, and have whatever happens in the future happen.”

 

“So I just… Peter, you need to know that I wanted to see you guys. I really did. And I’m so,  _ so,  _ glad to see you now. But… If I go back, everything is ruined. And I fought so hard to keep reality normal, and I just can’t have it flying around all crazy once more.”

 

Peter had his head down during the explanation, cataloguing every word. Every sentence. Every bit of tone and emotion in Tony’s voice, for the off chance that this is the one and only time that he’ll be able to hear him. Because what he just explained?

 

He got it.

 

He truly understood why Tony couldn’t come back to the life he had before. And there wasn’t a single bone or atom in his body that felt angry anymore, much to his surprise. 

 

And Peter felt bad. 

 

While they were suffering, Pepper and Morgan and Peter and all of the superheroes, they all had each other. Tony? He had himself, and maybe Strange. He had to watch his daughter grow up without really knowing her father but knowing his legacy, had to stay away from his wife as she took on his position as the owner of Stark Industries. Watched his best friend find someone new, but never the same. 

 

Tony had to watch his ghost fly through everyone’s life, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

 

Peter swallowed and blinked.

 

Blinked again.

 

Met eyes with Tony, and asked “can you hug me again?”

 

Tony smiled, albeit small. Like a twitch of his lips rather than a full on grin. But nonetheless, he complied and wrapped his arms around Peter.

 

The young adult sunk into his embrace, burrowing his head in Tony’s neck and breathed in.  _ Not ash,  _ he told himself.  _ He doesn’t smell like ash. _

 

“This is nice,” Peter told him deja vu lurking in the corner of his mind. Tony chuckled before holding onto him tighter, as if he’d fly away once more. 

 

“Yeah kid, this is.”

 

They stayed like that for a while longer before separating. Peter had to go back home eventually, and Tony needed to go back to the sanctum. They said their teary eyed goodbyes, and walked their separate ways.

 

That night was the first night in years that Peter got a full night's rest, happy smiles and the smell of coffee and oil plaguing his dreams.

 

___

  
  


The next time Peter knocked on the doors of the sanctum, Wong let him in.

 

He led him to the back and told him to wait for Stange, and then left. Luckily he didn’t have to stand there for long waiting for the wizard, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

 

They didn’t say anything, only exchanged a glance that conveyed everything. Strange nodded, and Peter nodded back.

 

Then, he opened a portal to another room. One that didn’t look to be in the walls of the building, or any type of building Peter had ever been in.

 

Tony was on the other side, grinning widely with his arms extended as a way to show off the area in a proud gesture.

 

“Hey, underoos. Long time no see.”

 

Peter smiled, and took a step forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments telling me how I did! I had an absolute joy writing this distraction of a fic!
> 
> Once more, please head over and check over my main fic, I Can't Take This (All This Meaningless), it's got /so/ much angst. 
> 
> Join my discord! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/fXBC3aD


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